


Hand in Unlovable Hand

by rrastaban



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alexis | Quackity Deserves Better, Alexis | Quackity Needs a Hug, Alexis | Quackity-centric, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Denial, Hurt/Comfort, Jschlatt is a dick, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:29:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28859598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrastaban/pseuds/rrastaban
Summary: Let's start at the beginning.Let's start from the boy who wanted so desperately to be seen, to be recognized. The boy who sacrificed everything for the man he once trusted. The boy who ended up walking on eggshells, scared into compliance.Let’s start with the man who promised democracy, who held the world in his hands and let that power corrupt him. His promises held strong in Quackity’s heart where they could never be disturbed, and how they ruined him.Let’s start with the way Quackity loved Schlatt so dearly, and so tragically.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Floris | Fundy & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs, Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Alexis | Quackity/Sapnap, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Comments: 50
Kudos: 466





	1. i hope i cut myself shaving tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda song fic??? Idk but this is very obviously based on No Children by Mountain Goats. Huge trigger warning for abuse/etc. Also! In this fic there are moments in their relationship where things seem healthy, this is not to romanticize abuse, but more accurately portray how abusive relationships have honeymoon phases that cause denial in the victims. If you or anyone you know is experiencing anything similar to what is in this, please contact the domestic violence hotline: 800-799-7233
> 
> Also if any content creators find this (somehow) and want it removed, I will do so in an instant.
> 
> edit: YOOOO i got a playlist for this bitch now, its called Eight of Swords by Rrastaban on spotify! check it out pls :)

Quackity stood atop the podium alongside Jschlatt with a grin spreading across his lips

“I have with me in my possession the election results of the four parties.” Wilbur started, a quiet uneasiness seeping through his voice. Quackity looked back at George with a smirk and nodded to him. This was the moment everything he’d been working towards would come to fruition, and frankly, he couldn’t wait. After a few jokes were made about Fundy committing voter fraud, it was finally time for the results. The air was so still, as if the wind itself was holding its breath in anticipation.

“With 9% of the vote, in fourth place is Coconut2020.”

“With 16% of the vote, coming in third place is Schlatt2020.”

“That leaves us with the two major parties. Coming in second place with 30% of the popular vote, is Swag2020 led by Quackity.” His smile faltered a bit, a slight panic gracing his eyes for just a moment but left in a second. He still has a way to win this.

“Meaning that the winner of the popular vote by 45% is Pog2020.” Wilbur said with hesitance. Tommy was none the wiser to the shift in Wilbur’s tone, proudly jumping and shouting in victory, yelling profanities at the other parties.

“Pl-please stop celebrating..” there it was. A slight crack in Wilbur’s voice gave everything away, Tommy looked back at him with wide eyes. Wilbur sighed and shook his head slightly before continuing, the results still feverishly held in his hands. 

“Two nights ago, after the announcement of Schlatt2020 and Coconut2020… Quackity made a deal with Jschlatt. He said no matter what happens, he’d pool Swag2020 votes along with Schlatt2020 votes to win the election. By 1% of the vote, Schlatt wins the election…” Wilbur trailed off slightly, moving to allow Schlatt to pass him and speak at the microphone. 

But this is the story we all know, isn’t it. We all know about how the fattest ass in the cabinet became the flattest. This isn’t a tale of betrayal. This is a tale of love, hate, hurt, and regret. And it all started with a ring. 

Let's start at the beginning.

Let's start from the boy who wanted so desperately to be seen, to be recognized. The boy who sacrificed everything for the man he once trusted. The boy who ended up walking on eggshells, scared into compliance.

Let’s start with the man who promised democracy, who held the world in his hands and let that power corrupt him. His promises held strong in Quackity’s heart where they could never be disturbed, and how they ruined him.

Let’s start with the way Quackity loved Schlatt so dearly, and so tragically.

To say Quackity was charmed by Schlatt would be an understatement. He saw him as a beacon of democracy. A promise for a better future for his country and for himself. Someone who believed in law and justice. Someone he could follow and love. The way Schlatt made him feel respected and loved filled him with pride. He made Quackity grow soft. With a simple graze of Schlatt’s hands or those pet names he would call him, the boy was completely under his spell. The two were a powerful duo, spending their time going on dates and eventually getting “engaged”. Things were going well, Quackity couldn’t complain. The hope of someone who had yet to see the horrors of the real world shined in his eyes, and he giddily followed Schlatt’s every move, every word, every command. 

Until it came to the wall.

“Come on Schlatt let's be reasonable here?” he pleaded with the man, frantically turning back to see Tubbo with an ax held gingerly in his hands. 

“These walls have been here since the beginning, we can’t just tear them down! Tubbo please..” he tried reasoning, watching as the small boy stood stiff, staring at the axe in his hands before tearing down the signs. Schlatt stode up to Quackity, looking down at him and pushing back on his chest with his pointer finger.

“You're not the one who makes the rules around here. Don’t get in my way, and don’t act out like this again.” He huffed, pushing past Quackity and handing Tubbo a pickaxe. The boy promptly began to destroy the walls that once protected L’manburg, a blank look in his eyes. All Quackity could do was watch. 

“Don’t you forget where your loyalties lie.” Schlatt said, barely above a whisper, as he turned his head back just enough to make eye contact with the boy before huffing and turning back towards Tubbo. Quackity stood wide-eyed, he knew this was wrong. This wasn’t what he wanted when he ran for president, when he sided with Schlatt, but this was his president now, and he had to follow him. 

Later that night, Quackity was rummaging through the white house they shared, smelting iron he got during the day. He heard the door open as the horned man came in with a sigh and walked towards Quackity. A mutual silence was shared between the two, almost comforting. Schlatt turned on his heel to walk over towards their balcony and searched his pockets, finally pulling out the box of cigarettes he was looking for. 

“You want one?” he called back to Quackity.

“You know I don’t smoke, love.” the boy chuckled softly and walked to stand next to the ram, resting his arms on the railing of the balcony and letting the smell of rusty smoke fill his lungs. He sighed, finding himself comforted by the toxic smell. It was ironic, in a sense. The smoke seeped into his throat and burned, but he couldn’t resist soaking up the harsh scent. He relaxed into his spot next to his president and partner, letting the patterns of their breathing slowly fall in pace with each other. He twirled the gold engagement band around on his ring finger, a tic he’d picked up on since he got it. 

“It really is beautiful.” Quackity finally broke the silence, looking out at the dimly lit landscape without giant walls blocking his view.

“Of course it is, those walls had to go. I don’t want any memories of the past in my country. I will create a new era for this great land.” Schlatt’s voice dripped with pride and ambition, and Quackity fell back into silence. He tried to remember that quote he had heard once, about history and not remembering it, but gave up, shaking his head slightly and looking up at the stars. He’d just have to wait and see.


	2. i hope it bleeds all day long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw for this chapter: alcohol use, verbal abuse/manipulation  
> Domestic violence hotline: 800-799-7233

The next day, Schlatt changed the name of the country to Manburg, because they “don’t take L’s”, Quackity stood next to the ambitious man, watching with pride as his partner ignited the country folk into action. They continued tearing down the walls as Schlatt watched, a glint of eagerness in his eyes as Quackity looked back to the man resting his feet up on the chair in front of him, a half full bottle in his hand. That was the day of their first fight. Quackity worried that Schlatt wasn’t taking him seriously, tried talking to him about ideas he had, but the man seemed disinterested. 

“Your ass has been looking flat lately” Schlatt said bluntly

“I- excuse me?” Quackity stifled a laugh, thinking it was a joke.

“No, I’m being serious. How do you expect me to still appreciate you and your ass if you aren’t going to the gym as much. It’s like you don’t love me enough to put effort into your appearance.” The drunk man slurs his words slightly, and Quackity looks down to his feet, twirling the gold ring again. 

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t realize how important it was to you.”

“Damn right it’s important to me!” Schlatt took a swig from the bottle. “Fuckin’ flatty patty.” He grumbled.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I’ll be better, I’ll do it for you, I’m sorry.” Quackity says, feeling absolutely ridiculous being this vulnerable, but was willing to sacrifice for the man he loved, even if it hurt. He got to work on building a gym and power rack while the rest of the country worked on taking down the walls, and Schlatt watched. 

With the back of his left hand, he wiped beads of sweat from above his brow. It’d been about an hour since he started, and now he was almost done. He places one of the final iron fences and stands back to admire his work. He ran off to find Schlatt to show him the power rack, but Schlatt just shrugged him off again. Flatty Patty rang in Quackity’s head. God how stupid must I be, getting upset over something so pointless like that, he thought to himself. Pathetic.

“Oh I’m Flatty Patty? Ok sure JFlatt” Quackity wheezed at his own joke, but Jschlatt remained unphased.

“Shut the fuck up.” the alcoholic said. Oh. Quackity fumbled over his words, trying to sputter something out, but his mouth remained agape like a fish out of water. Schlatt stumbled off, almost tripping on himself in his drunken stupor. Quackity watched him leave, fidgeting with the ring.

This is fine. He still cares about me. He’s just drunk. He gets like this. Quackity tried making excuses for the other man’s behavior, sucked up his pride, and let his classic goofy smile take his face over yet again.  
He’s just drunk, he still loves you.

Back at the white house, Quackity was working on crafting new diamond boots for himself, yeezys if you will. Schlatt barreled in, reeking of beer, but seemingly conscious enough not to fall over himself. Quackity stared at his hands, focusing on the cracks and ridges, trying not to pay any mind to the older man. He felt Schlatts hands rest on his shoulders and tensed slightly at the contact, but eventually eased into the touch.

“What’s wrong.” Schlatt said, less as a question and more of a statement, commanding an answer. Quackity shook his head and tried to smile.

“Everythings fine, Schlatt.” he stared down, still refusing to make eye contact. Was it fear? He couldn’t tell. Conflicting emotions festered within him. He almost jumped out of his skin as he felt Schlatt’s hand trail up the front of his neck and grab his chin, turning his face to look at him.

“Just know everything I do, I do for you.” Schlatt whispered in his ear, and Quackity’s eyes went wide, only able to mutter out a small “What?”  
Schlatt took a step back and held out his hands, stretching his arms out.

“All this! This country! We brought back democracy, you and me. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Schlatt turns back to him, a crazed look in his eye. Quackity sat in silence. He’s right isn't he? Of course he is. You brought democracy back to this country. He felt like folding in on himself. Even if this was right, it didn’t feel like it. Schlatt shook a cig from the box and lit it, taking a long drag.

“Don’t do that in the house.” Quackity mumbled, heading upstairs to go to bed.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Schlatt responded in his usual snarky tone.

“Right, sorry.” Quackity responded . It was all he could muster. He felt tired, not only physically but mentally. 

Maybe things will get better..

They didn’t.


	3. our friends say it's darkest before the sun rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter: alcohol use and violence  
> as always, the domestic violence hotline is 800-799-7233

Schlatt began drinking more after the announcement of the festival. It seemed every time Quackity passed the man he could smell the alcohol on his breath mixed with the cigarette smoke that lingered and clung to his suit coat, no matter how many times Quackity washed it for him. The man shielded his eyes from the sun using the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle, huffed, and scratched at his shirt collar. He ultimately seemed to decide on loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top couple buttons of his dress shirt, sacrificing a look of professionalism for comfort. Quackity kept his eyes on him the whole time, helping Tubbo prepare the festival decorations. He looked back to Tubbo who gave him a sad smile, seeming to say “I’m sorry” for how Schlatt was behaving. It wasn’t his fault. It was Schlatt’s choice to be day drinking. Quackity didn’t blame him much. He was the president after all, his job must be stressful. Then again, every time he spots the older man he's just lazing about. The boy sighs and looks down at the ring again, resorting to his classic tic of twisting it around in place. Tubbo seemed to notice his uneasiness and put a hand on his shoulder, offering a look of support. No words needed to be said between the two. Despite being in different situations, they always found solace in each other's company. 

“Quackity! Let’s chat..” Schlatt said grimly with a smirk, having snuck up on the boy and leaning down next to his ear. Tubbo shot him a panicked look, but Quackity ignored it. He stood up and followed the older man to the whitehouse with a sigh, leaving Tubbo on his own again.

“You’re getting awfully close with Tubbo, arentcha babe.” Schlatt said with a smirk.

“I mean, yeah. We’ve been working on the festival together.” Quackity shrugged, slightly confused where Schlatt was going with this.

“You know he’s a traitor, don’t you?” Schlatt’s voice dropped, his smile replaced with a serious look.

“I- what? No that’s not right, he wouldn’t betray us, at least not me…” Quackity trailed off, looking back at the boy he’d been speaking with just a moment earlier.  
Would Tubbo really betray us?   
Quackity was shaken from his thoughts at the sound of a bottle breaking and sudden movement coming closer to him. Schlatt had cornered him against a wall, keeping him in place with a hand by his head while the other, holding the broken bottle, rested centimeters away from Quackity’s abdomen. He looked frantically from the bottle to Schlatt, the man’s expression hadn’t changed. He could see the hatred in his eyes.

“You wouldn’t betray me though, would you Quackity. You love me too much, don’t you?” Schlatts voice was deep and quiet, dripping with malice. Quackity stood frozen for a moment before shaking his head, trying desperately to sink deeper into the wall. He hoped by some miracle he would find more space behind him, but was only greeted by the cold stone wall of the white house. Schlatt spun the bottle in his hand and pointed it upwards below Quackity’s chin, forcing him to make eye contact with the older man.

“I wanna hear you say it.” Schlatt said with a smirk.

“I won’t betray you. I promise.” Quackity manages to get out, barely above a whisper. He tried pointing his chin up as far as he can, sensing the drunk man shake a bit and feeling the sharp glass rest against the fragile skin under his chin. He felt a small prick of pain.

“Schlatt, please..” he barely choked out, and the older man spun on his heel and walked out, stopping outside the door to get out a cigarette and light it before continuing his walk to see how the festival decorations were coming along.

Quackity stood frozen to the spot, only shaken from it when he felt a drip of blood hit the ground, and warm tears growing in his eyes. He folded in on himself like a crumpled piece of paper, staring at the floor and trying to will his tears to stop. Pathetic.  
He slowly found himself scooting back up against the wall, bringing his knees to his chest and trying to get his breathing back to normal. He sat there for what felt like hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. He retreated into his own mind, trying to reason with himself.  
He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s just drunk. He thought to himself.

He didn’t hear the knocking on the door. He did hear it start to open and hurried to his feet, not wanting Schlatt to see him in such a pathetic state. But instead of Schlatt there, he found Niki’s small figure.

“Oh Quackity there yo-” she trailed off as her gaze fell on his puffy eyes and blood on his chin. She gave him a sorrowful look. They hadn’t always seen eye to eye. Hell, Quackity running for president was the whole reason Wilbur and Tommy were now exiled, but she could tell he felt just as alone and powerless as she did right now. She caught sight of the small line of red dripping down his neck and gave him a gentle smile. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” she said, and he flashed a weak smile at her, as if to say thank you. She cleaned the wound and bandaged it up, all in silence, but Quackity was glad to have the company. He let his head fall limp in her hand, drained from everything that just happened. Niki had never seen him like this before, so vulnerable and broken. It went to show how Schlatt was capable of ruining anyone, even one of the goofiest people on the smp. 

“Please don’t tell anyone..” Quackity let out, his eyes downcast, feeling ashamed of how weak he appeared at the moment.

“I won’t. You should get some rest though.” Niki noted, and he gently nodded in agreement, feeling sleep overtake him. He said his goodbyes to Niki and sent her on her way before heading upstairs and collapsing on the bed.

\--------------

A few hours later he heard the door creak open. He tried not to make it seem he was awoken by the noise, not feeling up to dealing with Schlatt right now, but lifted his head up a tad when he heard the man say his name. 

“I’m sorry.” followed, as Schlatt turned to look at him.

“I just don’t know who I can trust anymore, you can see where I was coming from can’t you?” the man continued. Quackity hummed in agreement, at this point too tired to say anything worth something. He slowly drifted back to sleep, listening to Schlatt grumble something about a “public execution”. He could hear the Ram flip his lighter open and the smell of smoke filled the room. Quackity tried not to think too much of it, and finally let sleep take over again.


	4. we're pretty sure they're all wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter this time, sorry boys.
> 
> Tw for this chapter: gore/violence, death  
> as always, domestic violence hotline is 800-799-7233

“Schlatt, what’s going on?” Tubbo asked, the fear showing in his voice as he cowered down, trapped in with yellow concrete.

“Don’t play dumb with me Tubbo, you really think I haven’t caught on? I know you’ve been spying for Wilbur and Tommy.” Schlatt’s voice was full of rage and hatred.

“Please Schlatt, this must be a misunderst-”

“You know what happens to traitors, Tubbo?” Schlatt’s voice dropped as he looked back at the boy with anger in his eyes.

“Nothing good.”

“Technoblade! Why don’t you join us up here.” Quackity looked from Schlatt to Techno, seeing a similar look of confusion and hesitance on the pigs face.

“Schlatt, listen, we already have him imprisoned. Whatever you’re thinking, please, let’s just handle this reasonably.” Quackity begged.

“We need to make an example of him.” Schlatt’s voice was grim.

Everything happened so fast, Quackity could barely process what was happening before being thrown to the ground, feeling something wet splatter his face. He ran a hand across it and found it was blood. He looked up from his hand to see Tubbo. The boy was left as a bloody heap, crumpled in on himself awkwardly and lying motionless. The flesh on the side of his face was visible, and a large gorey hole from the explosion encompassed his chest. Quackity felt dizzy, feeling pain in his own chest, and watching Tommy pearl to the podium before his eyes glazed over and his body fell limp.

He woke up back at the white house, gasping for breath and frantically clutching at his stomach. He curled in on himself, letting his breathing calm down. He could hear the fireworks still going off outside as Techno continued his slaughter of all the festival-goers. His heart was beating a mile a minute, filling him with anxiety and dread. The pain of knowing what was going on outside was almost worse than the physical pain from the explosion that has taken one of his lives. At least that’s what he thought before trying to get out of bed, and feeling a searing heat go up his left side as he fell to his knees and winced.

“Shit!” he hissed, slowly trying to get back up. He finally managed to get to his feet, still clutching his side as he tried making his way to the door before it was slammed open.

“Quackity! Jesus… shit. Are you ok?” Quackity froze, searching Schlatt’s eyes for anger or mockery, but only found what looked like panic and… worry? The boy was engulfed in a hug.

“I thought I lost you.” The man whispered. The fireworks outside had quieted, leaving behind a mess that they’d clean up tomorrow. Quackity breathed in the familiar scent of tobacco that clung to Schlatt’s suit jacket and let himself relax into the touch. He felt dizzy, the pain in his side ebbing it’s way back into his skull as he winced. Schlatt took notice of the way the boy tensed up and took a step back.

“We don’t have any painkillers. Fuck!” Schlatt ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of a way to ease the boy’s pain.

“Just get me some booze.” Quackity let out a weak chuckle. Even though he knew he wasn’t quite old enough to drink, he knew that it was the closest they had to easing the pain, and boy did they have a lot of it. Schlatt nodded and went to the kitchen, coming back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He watched as the man poured them both glasses and held his cup up towards him, as if to say cheers. Quackity threw his head back and let the warm liquid fall down his throat, the heat from it immediately taking his focus off of the pain. He grimaced slightly at the bitter aftertaste and Schlatt laughed at the face he made. 

“Awwww, little Q doesn’t know how to handle his booze.” Schlatt laughed at his own joke.

“Shut up, it’s cuz I’m not an alcoholic like you.” Quackity responded, already feeling more relaxed, despite everything that happened. He let a smile creep onto his face as Schlatt’s drunken shenanigans proved to entertain him quite well. He poured himself another glass and threw it back, this time managing not to wince.

“There ya go! You got it!” Schlatt said excitedly, and Quackity chuckled at the remark. It’d been a while since they had just spent time together like this, goofing off and just enjoying each other's company.

Despite the tragedy at the festival only occurring a couple hours earlier, it was the last thing on Quackity’s mind. He took another swig of whiskey and slammed the cup down on the table, getting a laugh out of Schlatt.

“Pour me another, Mr Bartender..” Quackity slurred his words slightly, smirking at Schlatt through half-squinting eyes.

“Oh but of course, anything for the fattest ass in the cabinet.” Schlatt had a grin plastered across his face, quite obviously more drunk than Quackity. The boy smiled back at him, tapping his finger against the cup, hearing the golden ring clink on the glass satisfyingly.


	5. i hope it stays dark forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: death, verbal abuse  
> aaaaaa sorry my chapters have been short lately im trying to write longer chapters but bleh

“OK what’s next, pres?” Quackity asked. They had been cleaning up the damage from last night’s festival all morning. They’d finally finished fixing the podium that was damaged by a creeper.

“Ugh the whitehouse, yeah yeah the whitehouse.” Schlatt said, walking over to the stone building that they lived in.

“Wait, what do you mean the white house?” Quackity felt his upbeat mood from their earlier shenanigans start to fade, still trying to keep up a smile though. 

“To be demolished, obviously.” Schlatt said, a bit of a slur in his words. That same goddamn ambition in his eyes as always.

“No no no, what are you talking about?” Quackity felt his breath catch in his throat. The white house was the first major building he built, it was his pride and joy. It was where he would go if Schlatt became too overbearing or when he just wanted time for himself. 

“It’s coming down, don’t make me make a fucking stone pickaxe.” Schlatt said, sounding annoyed, which earned a chuckle out of Quackity because it went to show that Schlatt really had nothing. He shook his head.

“No wait wait we aren’t taking down the white house. Schlatt, I built this place, before the election, before everything! You can’t just-”

“Oh come on! Don’t be a little bitch!” Schlatt interrupted him with a huff, his annoyance growing. 

“No! We’re not taking this down, get your shit together.” Quackity shouted, pushing Schlatt to the ground.

“Let’s move on.” The boy said, getting a bit of a power trip from looking down at his president.

“I have to make a fucking stone pickaxe now.” Schlatt grumbled, dusting himself off while Quackity was still trying to convince him not to tear down the house he built for them. 

“Well if you’re not gonna carry out my wishes…” Schlatt trailed off, beginning to mine at the stone white house, receiving shouts from Quackity in response.

“Stop! Fucking stop! What the fuck are you doing!?” Quackity felt helpless. If it was anyone else in that moment he wouldn’t have let them. But this was his president, and his partner. All he could do was watch as Schlatt tore down his home, mocking him the whole time. His feet moved before he could register and he ran to replace the blocks that Schlatt was breaking, still pleading with the ram to stop. Schlatt looked down at him with a wicked grin.

“What, you’re not enjoying this? You’re telling me you’re not having fun right now? Cause I’m having a whole lot of fun.” His voice dripped with spite.

“Dude I’m the vice president! We’re supposed to share these decisions Schlatt!” He felt his voice crack, revealing his vulnerability. Schlatt took that opportunity to tear him down more, hitting him with the pickaxe and watching the boy cower away from him. 

“Stop stop stop! We fucking share these decisions!” Quackity felt weak. Pathetic.

“What are you a fucking idiot? Get! Fucking! Mining!” Schlatts cocky tone from earlier was gone, now replaced with what sounded like pure anger. His tone cut into Quackity like knives as the boy stood still in his spot while the president went off to continue his work. 

“God I can’t take these fucking idiots!” Schlatt spat at Quackity. The boy stayed silent, but got out his pickaxe to help. He felt pathetic. Pathetic excuse for a vice president, you can’t even hold your own against him, can you?  
He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling to take his attention away from his own thoughts gnawing at his brain. 

“Who did I get to run my country with me!?” Schlatt continued, his voice still like hot steel. Every word from his mouth oozed hatred. 

“Fuckin pathetic, I mean look at you, I’m lookin at you right now with full netherite armor and you know what I see? Flatty Patty.” Schlatt knew the power that simple phrase had over Quackity. He knew damn well, that something as meaningless as that was able to hurt the boy.

“You know what since you’re Mr Fucking Bigman, why don’t you fucking do it yourself.” Quackity huffed in frustration, tossing his netherite pickaxe to the ground at Schlatt’s feet. 

“You are literally only in fucking power because of me and my votes!” Quackity continued, hearing the older man blabber loud nonsense just to seem in control. He went back to mining the house, and the boy went back to watching, not knowing what to do.

“You know what would really hurt your feelings?” Quackity could hear the smirk in Schlatt’s voice as the ram headed up the stairs towards the bedroom.

“Oh no not the bed!” Schlatt said in a mocking tone as he destroyed the bed upstairs. The bed they shared.

“Oh fuck you! Fuck you! I literally made that for you, I put that there for you!” Quackity felt his arms grow heavy and tired. Keeping up with Schlatt and all this was taking a toll, physical and mental. He tried to think back to better times, like last night. Maybe days like these just happen. It’s probably just a hiccup in the relationship.

“You know what I hear you doing Quackity? I hear you crying about it.” The malice in Schlatt’s mockery was unmistakable. The boy didn’t give himself time to think before he started running his mouth.

“You know what fuck you! I was vice president but you can find a new one because im not gonna fucking do this shit!” And again, Schlatt could care less about what the boy has to say, talking over him and mocking him. 

“Oh look I have Quackity’s watch and the big hand is pointing to ‘time to cry about it’! Get the fuck off of my property, babe.” the ram hissed, emphasizing the last word to get a rise out of Quackity, and boy did it work. The boy was seething. He found his bow in his inventory and aimed it at the older man that was tearing down the house. His house. 

“Yeah yeah rack that bow! We all know you’re too much of a fucking pussy to do it!” Schlatt mocked, not even looking at the boy. His attention was still on tearing down the house. He lowered the bow, trying just one more time to reason with the man.

Lets just say reasoning didn’t work.

“You’re too much of a fucking pussy to even shoot me with the bow! It’d kill me in one shot b-”

Quackity didn’t let the man finish. Anger had been building up for far too long. His arms moved to take aim and before he could blink, Schlatt fell limp to the floor.

The boy took a shaky breath in, taking a couple steps forward to see if the man was really dead. The arrow went through the ram’s neck, the flint sticking out of his nape. Now Schlatt was the one who looked pathetic. Sprawled across the floor in a strange position, limbs limp on the cold floor. The man let a gurgled noise escape his throat, maybe a cough, before his eyes glazed over. Quackity stood over his president. No, his ex-president. His partner. He watched the blood pool from his neck and coat his sneakers. He instinctively went to the gold ring, his fingers often finding it in times of stress. He paused for a bit, looking at the gold band on his finger once, before twisting it off and tossing it on the old man’s corpse.

“Go fuck yourself.”


	6. i hope the worst isnt over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: gore, choking

Life in Pogtopia was quiet. Of course it was though, Quackity tended to keep to himself. After he killed Schlatt he ran. He ran until the adrenaline wore off. That’s when he found Tommy, the boy was riding around on Techno’s horse and invited him to join Pogtopia. Of course he said yes. He wanted the power back that Schlatt stripped from him. In his mind, Pogtopia would be the underdog rebellion to kill Schlatt, as if out of some young adult novel.

Seeing Wilbur changed that vision he had. He was no longer the leader that Quackity ran against. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he looked up to Wilbur. He started this country, led the people into war and won independence. Seeing that once great leader now filled with paranoia felt like a stab in the back. The bags under his red eyes were dark, he looked weak. He shoved his doubts aside, instead opting to help Tommy convince Wilbur not to blow up L’manburg. 

Back at Pogtopia, Quackity kicked a stray pebble that along with many others littered the halls. He waved hello to Techno, passing him in his potato farm. The pig had gotten an impressive amount of farming done. He looked up at the boy and smiled at him with a nod. Quackity didn’t expect much else, Techno was usually quiet and kept to himself, especially since Tommy was currently accusing him of being a traitor. Quackity thought back to the look on Tubbo’s face before he went out with a bang. That boy should have never had to feel that much dread, he was only a child. Quackity’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to shake the image of the bloodied boy from his thoughts. He promised himself that once Tubbo woke up and was ready, he’d apologize to him for everything, but until then he tried not to think about it too much. 

As quiet day after quiet day passed by, more people revealed themselves to be in support of Pogtopia. Fundy showed up to the tunnels with his diary of a spy, having written down Schlatt’s weaknesses, getting close to him to get more information. Quackity had to say he was surprised. Fundy seemed so supportive of Schlatt, going as far to burn down the old flag. For him to have always been against Schlatt seemed a little suspicious, but the boy shrugged the idea off. The more people they had on their side the better. Niki was helping too. Her bakery had been getting heavily taxed by Schlatt’s administration and she was tired of it, joining Pogtopia around the same time as Quackity. The boy had gotten talking to her more often, reminiscing on the fun times and not so fun times, like when he helped her break out of prison, or when she helped him with his cut. He placed a gentle hand to his neck. The scab had healed well but there would be a bit of a scar. Nothing too big, but enough to leave a reminder for Quackity whenever he looked in the mirror. 

Eret denounced their kingship. They'd been working towards redemption for so long, Quackity could tell that they were trying their best. He was one of the first to welcome Eret with open arms, as they were met with some hostility from the others. Unfortunately, the excitement from new alliances faded when Dream arrived. He revealed he’d be siding with Schlatt in exchange for something, and that there was a traitor in Pogtopia. Of course, they just couldn’t catch a break.

Most everyone else was still working on gathering supplies for the upcoming war. It was scheduled for tomorrow. Tommy and Niki were working on the railway from Pogtopia to Manburg. Techno was farming as always. Wilbur was getting sand and gunpowder to make more TNT. Tubbo and Sam were trying to get him better armour and gear. The tunnels of Pogtopia were quiet, Quackity could hear water drip from the ceiling. The silence was painful, his footsteps echoing against the walls. He found himself in his familiar pattern of getting lost in his thoughts, grabbing towards his hand to twist his ring before freezing. It wasn’t there. Of course it wasn’t. He remembered damn well discarding it after he killed Schlatt.

Fuck

He had been trying not to think about the ram. He knew he’d have to face him again soon, face his insults and berratement. And yet at the same time, part of him was excited to see the man again. He wouldn’t quite say he missed him, but in a way he missed the company. He missed the good times. The good moments that they had shared together, their dates and the cold nights spent out on the balcony. He mentally scolded himself, hating himself for feeling like this. Schlatt was an asshole, total dick, no doubt about it. But god, without him, Quackity felt pretty damn alone. 

His feet found their way back to Techno’s farm without realizing it. He made his way inside and sat against the wall, careful not to disturb the pig, he just wanted to be near someone. Techno glanced over his shoulder, spotting the boy just sitting there. He closed his eyes with a sigh and let out a small chuckle before getting back to his work. And so Quackity found himself getting sung to sleep by the rhythmic tilling of Techno’s hoe, head back up against the cold stone wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A brass waltz was heard from further down the halls. Quackity walked through the dimly lit hallways, chasing the source. He was eventually led to a large ballroom, the strings’ sinister melody filling the space full of dancing couples. He stood frozen at the entryway, looking up at the tall windows and glowing chandelier with intricate ironwork. He felt out of place in the ballroom, simply in his work suit. The orchestra’s past song had ended, and Quackity recognized the beginning of Shostakovich’s second waltz. A heavy hand rested on his shoulder, but this time he wasn’t startled by the touch. He looked to his side to see Schlatt, the horned man grinning at him. The ram held out his hand.

“May I have this dance?” he bowed to the boy. Quackity hesitantly placed his hand in Schlatt’s and was pulled into the man with the swing of the music and crash of cymbals. Schlatt led the dance, stepping quickly with the waltz, practically dragging Quackity around as the boy struggled to find his footing. The music slowed again and lulled to a steadier rhythm, one that Quackity was able to keep up with. It almost felt like a march, the sharp staccato of the brass horns. The familiar melody of Shostakovich ended, and another song began. Schlatt quickly found the new rhythm, falling in time, his grip strong on Quackity.

“Schlatt… what is all this?” Quackity motioned at the ballroom dancers with his head. Schlatt spins the boy and pulls him in close again.

“Don’t you remember darling? Manburg won the war.” Schlatt responded with a sinister grin. The Russian waltz was getting louder and faster, the melodies spinning and swimming in Quackity’s head. 

“Wh-what? Against who?”

“Come on, you seriously don’t remember?” Schlatt grinned and pulled him by the waist to whisper in his ear.

“Pogtopia is no more.” He growled, and Quackity felt his blood grow cold. The waltz kept getting faster and louder, the ram stepping faster with it. The music crescendos and the cymbals crash again, again again.

1….2… 3…

1… 2…

The music is silenced by a ringing, and in a blink the orchestra is gone, a loud crashing explosion replacing their place on the stage. Fire envelops the ballroom, all the past people dancing have vanished. Quackity looks back to the ram who’s still holding onto him, but freezes. His horns have grown into his eyes, gouging them out and leaving bloody cavities in his face. The overbearing reek of alcohol, cigarettes, and death fills Quackity’s lungs. Music fades back in, the Russian waltz coming back fast as ever, if not a little deafened. Tubas and trombones boom as the flaming curtains fly around them in the wind. Quackity looks around frantically at the collapsing ballroom, not wanting to stare into Schlatt’s eye holes. The rams sharp finger brings his face back to him though, moving his grip from the boy’s chin to his neck. 

“How does it feel to dance with death?” his voice is low, hollow black eyes staring into Quackity’s. The walls crumble around them. The floor below Quackity begins to sink, and before he knows it, Schlatt’s mangled figure is holding him by the throat above a black pit. The boy struggled in his grip, feeling his lungs gasp to breathe. 

“You wanna know what, Quackity?” Schlatt’s voice sounds garbled, a black liquid starts to drip from his mouth. 

“If I die, this country goes down with me.” Schlatt’s grip on the boy's neck loosened and he fell into the black pit below. He couldn’t breathe, it felt like there was a huge weight on his chest. He started to panic, trying to scream but his voice was silenced by the expansive empty black space. He could feel his heart beating out of his cest, the adrenaline of the fight or flight you get when you know you’re about to die. His final breath filled his lungs with the heavy black substance. This was the end… 

He jolted awake, feeling himself sweating. He struggled to catch his breath, the fear still very present. He frantically searched around him, trying to get his bearings on his surroundings. He let out a shaky breath of relief when he realized he was still in Pogtopia, left in the farm room where he had fallen asleep. The heavy weight he found was Techno’s coat, draped over him like a blanket. The fur at the top had been making it hard for Quackity to breathe. He chuckled lightly at himself for getting so scared because of a silly coat. He appreciated Techno’s gesture of kindness, not usually seeing a softer side of the pig like this. He slowly got up, putting the cape over his shoulders and making his way to his room in Pogtopia. It was late. War was now with hours. With the rising sun, Quackity would have to face the bloodthirsty man from his dream. He shuddered slightly remembering it, bringing his hand up to his neck, remembering the sensation of Schlatt’s hand tight around it. It made him dizzy. He turned on his heel, starting to feel nauseous, and hurried out of Pogtopia, vomiting into a nearby bush. He was very thankful that none of it got on Techno’s cape. He washed up by the river, splashing his face with the cold water. He caught sight of his reflection in the moonlit pool, the first time he’d genuinely seen himself in a while.

His features were lit in a blue hue from the early morning moonlight. There were dark bags under his eyes, smudged dirt on his cheeks that have slowly over time started to hollow in. He could barely recognize himself. He saw a scared boy in the water looking up at him, not a vice president, not a warrior. Just a pathetic, scared little boy. He slowly reached his hands up to his face, making sure it wasn’t a hallucination. He gently tugged at the skin below his eyes, seeing his reflection do the same. His fingers found his cheeks and ran along his cheekbones. His face had lost a lot of it’s old rosy color. Looking at himself made him feel sick. This is how Schlatt saw you…

He pushed away the thoughts, splashing his face once more with water and watching his reflection distort in the ripples before he went back down to the tunnels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Rastaban here! first of all i just wanna thank everyone for reading and enjoying the story. All the comments i get really give me the energy to keep going with this. Second of all, Im not sure i can promise consistent uploads from here on out. When i started this i planned on releasing chapters approximately weekly, but my life is getting stressful with applying to colleges and keeping up with schoolwork. Writing like this is my passion and it makes me happy that you guys enjoy my writing but im starting to lose inspiration for this piece. I still have a couple ideas up in my head so I'd say there's at most 3 chapters left that i can get out, and it probably wont get out soon. Third of all, i wanna start writing other stories more. I really like mcyt rn so if you guys have anything you really wanna see, leave me a comment! even if its a small little headcanon you have or whatever, I love seeing others ideas and trying to put them down in my own writing! Thank you guys again for all the love! peace out pogchamps!


	7. i hope you blink before i do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! i know i said i was gonna be gone for a while but instead decided to say fuck it and get this beast of a fic over with :) dw theres more to come with this but like yes :)  
> tw: alcohol, minor transphobia, gore, major character death :)
> 
> also!! i have a playlist for this fic now!! its called Eight of Swords by Rrastaban on spotify! check it out :)

It was the morning of the war. Quackity was walking along the railroad, on his way to meet with Tubbo to discuss who the traitor could be. The air was heavy, there was no wind. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath in anticipation. 

As he reached the pink tower that they’d meet at, he saw the boy pacing back and forth. Quackity called to him and watched the boy flinch at first and then perk up when he realized who it was. They began their theories on who the traitor could be, thinking it could be Fundy or Badboyhalo.

“Wilbur is crazy beyond his mind. It can’t be him.” Quackity said, and Tubbo nodded in agreement.

“Tubbo… What if it's Tommy? Dream said it would be someone we least expect.” Quackity hesitated, tiptoeing over the words as he saw the boy's eyes go wide.

“N-no… It wouldn’t be Tommy? Would he? He wouldn’t.” Tubbo’s voice sounded weak. Quackity could tell the boy was tired. Having been executed and now being thrust into the middle of a war, thinking his best friend was a traitor was not a thought he wanted to have.

“Well I know it’s not you or me. We both worked under Schlatt and he fucked both of us up, so I think we should have each other’s backs, yaknow?” Tubbo smiled, quickly changing the subject off of thinking his best friend was a traitor. They spent a few more minutes thinking of who it could be, maybe Niki or Eret. 

“Tubbo, are we even ready for this?” Quackity huffed, sitting down in the dirt as he put his head in his hands. Tubbo sat down next to him, hesitating at first but then placing a hand on his back.

“We’re so underprepared!” Quackity threw up his hands in frustration and turned to look at Tubbo. “Am I being paranoid?” he could feel the fear growing in his stomach, it made him sick. 

After a while, they met up with Technoblade, Fundy, and the others, only waiting on Wilbur and Tommy. When Wilbur showed up, he was still the cynical nihilistic man Quackity saw in that room where he had to talk him down from blowing up the country. The fear in his stomach only grew more. Wilbur bantered with the others about blowing up L’manburg, receiving a chorus of “no”s in response. Technoblade announced he had a secret base with extra resources, and so the group followed him into a hole at the bottom of the lake that led into a cramped room. There were chests full of arrows and food, weapons and armour. But then they found a small ladder, and shouts of shock and joy were heard. Below the cramped room was a much bigger room, the walls lined with blackstone. Three separate hallways full of chests were lit by soul lanterns, and at the end of the middle hallway, Techno had 5 sets of full enchanted netherite armour.

The rest of the group piled in, looking around the room in awe. Niki, who had previously been in diamond armour, was finally able to don full enchanted netherite. Her face lit up in a way Quackity had never seen out of the girl. Something about it gave him hope. As everyone rushed to put on armour or gather weapons, Quackity looked through the chests. Some of the chests were full of poisoned arrows, enchanted diamond swords, golden apples, etc. 

“I am ready for revolution boys!” Techno’s voice echoed against the halls, holding out his arms in pride. Fundy passed out splash potions of poison and harming he found, but Quackity wasn’t paying attention. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Wilbur leaning against the wall by the ladder, no armour or weapons to be seen. He had an ominous grin plastered across his face, and Quackity felt that pit in his stomach grow.

When they finally left Techno’s base, there wasn’t a single person who wasn’t in full netherite, with the exception of Wilbur anyways. Quackity’s previous fears had dissipated, for the most part.

“We have the blade boys! Let’s get L’manburg back!!” he shouted victoriously, earning shouts from his comrades in return. They made their way to L’manburg, cracking jokes the whole way there and laughing. The lighthearted mood wouldn’t last long however, because as they reached the first of Eret’s towers, flaming arrows rained down on them. Half of them stormed the tower, going up to fight Dream and Schlatt and whoever else they’d meet up there. As they reached the top, they realized they had the upper hand, as Dream and his friends had abandoned the tower.

“Rain on them! Rain on them!” Wilbur shouted, sounding like his old commander self again. They shot back at the Manburg soldiers, pushing them back into Manburg territory. Quackity jumped from the tower, landing in water as the rest followed, pushing further and further into Manburg. Arrows were flying and every so often the sky would light up in a mass of colors from Technoblade’s rocket launcher. The sounds of sword clashing and axes cutting down shields reverberated through Quackity’s ears as he ran through the battlefield, trying to help wherever he could. 

“Wilbur, we need to talk.” Dream’s voice could be heard across the battlefield. The fighting slowed as all faces turned to the two leaders who went off to talk privately. There’s mumbling from all sides, trying to figure out what’s going on. The small period of amnesty between the two sides was refreshing, being able to talk amongst each other about the war without hostility or aggression. 

“Weapons down!” Wilbur called back to his soldiers. His command was met with confusion but ultimately, everyone did as he said.

“We would like to surrender…” Dream started, getting a shocked gasp from both sides, “and it’s because Schlatt is an idiot. I have to show you something. Follow me.” He finished in his typical monotonous tone. Everyone followed him to the dirt replica of the camarvan, piling into the cramped room to find none other than Schlatt. 

“Schlatt, what are you doing in my drug van? It better not be drugs.” Wilbur said, laughing slightly. Schlatt didn’t look at him, instead taking a swig from his dark brown bottle.

“Are.. are you drinking?” Wilbur asks. 

Quackity looked down at the man in front of him.  
The man he once called his president, his lover. The ram looked frail. He reeked of alcohol, just like he always did. Pathetic, Quackity thought to himself. Whispers filled the van. The supposedly great leader of Manburg stumbled over himself trying to get up. He pointed an accusatory finger at Fundy. 

“Fundy?.. Fundy?! What are you doing here?!” The rams voice was hoarse. 

“Schlatt, are you fucking drunk?” Fundy said, making his way down to the ram before he started hitting the fox. 

“Come here you bitch!” the ram smashed the bottle against the wall and started pointing it towards Fundy. Quackity flinched before swiftly stepping in between them, Schlatt holding the broken glass now up to his chest. This was all too familiar to Quackity. He remembered the times Schlatt would hit him, threaten him with broken bottles. If he could make it so that no one else had to experience that, he would. 

“Schlatt listen, you had a dream and I followed it but you brought it downhill! You ruined it! You ruined everything!” Fundy sounded frantic and angry behind Quackity. He hadn’t seen this side of the fox before, the side that was willing to stand up to Schlatt. Maybe it was just because they had the ram surrounded that gave fundy the courage to say how he really felt, but either way, Quackity was proud of him. 

“I thought you were something!” Quackity could hear Fundy’s voice catch in his throat. 

“Yeah… yeah I am something! I’m what you’re not! I’m a man.” Schlatt hissed through gritted teeth, slurring his words. Quackity could sense Fundy tense up behind him. He looked back to the fox to see his eyes wide in shock, he sniffed and turned away as Wilbur intervened, defending his son and slapping Schlatt across the face. His face was red with anger, and Tommy already had his crossbow pointed at Schlatt. 

“You know… If I die, this country goes down with me.” Schlatt slurred, and Quackity froze. He remembered those words from his nightmare. He felt his shoulders tense up and his fists tighten. He remembered back how Schlatt held him by the throat, jagged fingernails digging into his neck. He remembered not being able to breathe, struggling to grasp at Schlatt’s hands, trying to get him to let go. He clenched his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. 

“You could have had it Schlatt… you could have had it all.” Quackity said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I had everybody turn on me. In my time of need everybody left. You fucking left me! What the fuck happened to our marriage?” Schlatt was yelling now, practically spitting in Quackity’s face. The boy kept his fists at his sides, his knuckles growing white from the pressure. He stood still, taking the brunt of Schlatt’s anger. He watched Schlatt hold his fist up and clenched his eyes shut, feeling the punch whizz past his face as the drunkard stumbled over himself. He was bent over himself, bringing the wrist of his sleeve up to wipe at his mouth. 

“I want my fucking ring back.” Schlatt hissed. Quackity took a deep breath in, steadying himself.

“I threw it on your corpse when I killed you. Maybe if you weren’t so quick to destroy the white house you would have found it, asshole.” Quackity snapped back, feeling his anger grow.

“You moth-” Schlatt lunged at Quackity but then froze, his eyes going wide. He grabbed at his chest, half bending over. He frantically looked around the room, trying to make a noise but only able to let out a gurgle. He started coughing, and blood splattered on his hands and on the ground. He held his hands up to his face, looking at them bewildered, beginning to shake.

“S..Schlatt stop fucking around… What’s going on?” Quackity couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. He took a step towards the man before the ram shot him a glare, stepping back and stumbling over his feet, landing on the floor. He started huffing, grabbing at his own throat and struggling to breathe. All Quackity could do was watch as his ex-lover writhed around in pain, before he coughed up more blood and his head hit the floor. Quackity watched as the man's eyes glazed over, stuck to his spot as the others laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“Did… did he just have a heart attack?” Tubbo asked.


	8. i hope i never get sober

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence/gore, panic attacks, smoking
> 
> Anyways heyyyy besties! enjoy funny chapter but also pretty please check out the playlist for this fic, its Eight of Swords on spotify, i promise its good (or so ive been told by some friends)

Tubbo stood at the podium, nervous eyes trailing across the crowd below him. He was wringing his hands. Quackity could tell he wasn’t quite over the trauma that being on the podium again left him with. He started off his presidential speech, stuttering slightly since he wasn’t given the time to prepare. His eyes caught Quackity’s and he gave the new president a gentle smile and a thumbs up, just trying to support him. 

“I'm gonna be honest, I really don’t know what a president does..” Tubbo laughed, earning laughs and hoots from the crowd. 

“I think we should start with taking down my execution decorations… it.. it's quite traumatic for me.” He giggled nervously, moving off the podium as Tommy and Quackity made their way to the podium to start taking down the yellow concrete blocks. Quackity stopped him before he left, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, this is a good thing for the country, you’re gonna do great.” He said sincerely and the boy smiled up at him.

“Thanks Quackity… It means a lot.” Tubbo nodded slightly and carried on walking down towards the crowd below him. 

“So Dream, was there just no traitor?” Tommy said, his voice carrying over the crowd just like it always did.

“Oh, no there was a traitor.” Dream said with a sly smirk, getting confused mumbles from the citizens of L’manburg. 

Bang

Color sprayed in the air. Quackity’s head snapped to the source of the noise, seeing a hurt Tubbo on the ground, wincing as he held his hand to his side that was beginning to turn red. Techno was above him, pointing his crossbow at him. Quackity heard Tommy scream, running towards Techno before the crossbow was pointed at him.

“You listen here. I did not spend weeks planning this revolution, giving you guys gear, for you all to replace one tyrant…” Techno pointed his crossbow at the dirt camarvan. “...With another!” He pointed the crossbow back down at Tubbo, who looked terrified. 

“Don’t you see history repeating itself here? You think Schlatt was the cause of your problems? No! It's the government, don’t you see?” The pig was shouting now, pointing the crossbow across the crowd that had grown around him. While he wasn’t paying attention, Quackity went to help Tubbo, letting the boy lean on his shoulder to get up.

“Tubbo, we need to get you out of here, come on.” He said, helping him up as they made their way towards the podium. When Quackity looked behind him, he saw more bursts of color, more bangs as Techno massacred the crowd. He watched as his friends were slaughtered, and all he could do was watch helplessly.

“You know who the traitor was, Tommy?” Dream grinned.

“The traitor was Wilbur.” Dream’s monotone voice carried across the field. Quackity felt Tubbo tense up in his arms, and watched his eyes go wide in fear. The boy turned to look at him, unable to get a word out before the both of them were thrown from the podium. 

He couldn’t breathe. His ears were ringing and yet everything sounded muffled at the same time. He tried to gasp for air but instead, water filled his lungs, leaving him in a coughing fit as he swam up to the surface. He could hear Dream laughing. Tubbo, where’s Tubbo?? He thought, looking around frantically before seeing the boy’s familiar green shirt sinking lower into the river. He dived down to the bottom, holding the boy by the waist and trying to swim back up. The added weight made it difficult, but the rush of adrenaline gave him the push he needed. He threw Tubbo onto the shore, hitting the ground next to him hard and gasping for breath. After a few moments he turned to the new president, trying to make sure he was breathing. He checked his pulse and found that the boy was still alive, but not breathing, probably passed out. Maybe it was better that way. He wouldn’t have to see the destruction of his country until later.

He pushed himself up off the sand, looking around at what happened. 

L’manburg was gone, replaced with a crater. He could hear screams around him as the explosions continued to go off. He heard Niki sobbing, watching her country where she only wanted peace crumble. He watched as Eret ran around frantically, checking on everyone who was thrown by the explosion and trying to offer help where they could. Quackity called them over to help with Tubbo. Eret knelt by the boy, checking his breathing the same way Quackity did before performing chest compressions on him. The boy coughed up water, and Eret helped him turn to his side so that he didn't choke on the water.

“He was shot… can you help him?” Quackity asked frantically and Eret nodded back at him, opening his inventory and getting out bandages, getting to quick work dressing his wounds. 

“Tubbo!!” Quackity heard Tommy scream. It was guttural and pained. The boy ran over to his friend and hugged him.

“Tommy, please be careful, the wound is still fresh..” Eret started but was cut off when Tommy started sobbing. They sighed and smiled down at the two boys, looking back up to Quackity and giving him a silent nod as if to say “Go, I’ll stay with them.”  
And so he did.

He ran through the scarred battlefield, making sure no one was stuck under debris or gravely injured. That’s when he saw Wilbur. That’s when he realized what happened.

The mad man did it. He really fucking did it. Quackity didn’t think he actually had it in him, but there he was in that room. The front was blown off for all to see Wilbur, standing with his arms out, a crazed look on his face as tears streamed down his face. And.. was that Phil?

“My L’manburg, Phil! My unfinished symphony forever unfinished! If I can't have this no one can, Phil!” Wilbur spaty before spinning on his heel back to his father. 

“Phil, kill me. Kill me now.” everything was a blur.

“No… Will, you’re my son.” it was all moving so fast.

“Phil, look at this, look at what I’ve done. Look at my people, they all want me dead! Do it.” Quackity’s head was spinning. He watched Phil bring Wilbur into a hug, and drive the sword through his chest, coming out the other side and dripping with blood. Wilbur went limp in his arms, and Phil fell to his knees, embracing his son and letting out an anguished cry. Quackity stood frozen, everything was moving so fast. He felt dizzy. His ears were still ringing from the explosion. He was shaken from his thought by Tommy screaming at Techno. 

“You stay right over there, Tommy.” Techno was across the ravine from Tommy and the others, the familiar shape of unspawned withers stood around him.

“You think you’re a hero Tommy, don’t you. The hero that saved L’manburg, but you know the sad truth about this world? Good things don’t happen to heroes. Let me tell you a story Tommy… the story of a man called Theseus. His country was in danger, and he sent himself over into enemy lines, he even slayed the minotaur and saved his people! And do you know what they did to him?” Techno’s voice was grim. It was the most Quackity had heard the man say, he only knew those quiet nights at the farm.

“They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes Tommy, the Greeks knew the score. But if you wanna be a hero, that’s fine, that’s fine…” Techno made his way over towards the unspawned withers, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Don’t do this Techno… please.. We were so close… Techno I’m not a hero.” Tommy's voice caught in his voice. Quackity could tell he was trying not to cry, trying to seem strong in front of everyone else, pleading with the pig.

“You wanna be a hero Tommy? Then die like one!” Techno shouted, his voice dripping with malice as he spawned in the two withers. More shouts filled the air as the withers started attacking all the citizens and land around L’manburg. Quackity ran, hearing his friends shout, trying to figure out how to defeat the withers. He got to party island and started taking aim, shooting at the withers with his crossbow from a distance. He knew he wasn’t a good fighter. He didn’t have as much experience in battle as the others did. 

“Shit, Tubbo, where are you?” He shouted through the frantic crowds and raining arrows, trying to find his president. He knew the others could hold off the withers better than he could, so for now, he just wanted to make sure the boy was ok and safe. One of the withers started chasing him, the impact of one of its fireballs sending him face first into the ground. Some of the others ran over, distracting the wither while Quackity tried to get up, stumbling a bit and wincing at the pain in his back. He held up his shield and ran straight for the wither, trying to attack it with all his might. They finally killed one of the withers and the other one was on low health. He could hear Techno laughing.

“So who here is pro government.” Techno said slyly, earning many “no”s in response. Quackity felt his anger grow. Everyone was so quick to abandon the country when Techno said that, scared of him and his power. He tried to ignore that anger, continuing his search for the new president. He found him with Tommy, talking with the other remaining citizens of L’manburg after they defeated the second wither. He decided to leave it be, at least the boy was safe. He began walking through the rubble of what was once his home, his country. He trekked up the scarred land to the podium and sat down, dangling his legs over the edge and looking out over the damage as the sun set over the once great country. He leaned back on his hands, sighing and just trying to gather his thoughts. He had expected Wilbur to go crazy, but Techno? Even if they hadn’t spoken much, he’d considered Techno a friend. They’d spent many quiet hours just enjoying each other’s company. His head started to spin again, blaming himself for everything and feeling the guilt in his veins.

If you didn’t run for president…

If you weren’t so hellbent on beating Wilbur…

If you hadn’t sided with Schlatt…

He wanted to punch himself in the gut. He leaned his head forward and held it in his hands, tense fingers reaching up under his beanie and clutching at the black locks, trying to make the voices in his head stop yelling at him for everything he did wrong. He felt a hand touch his back and tensed at the touch, whipping his head around in self defense to find none other than Tubbo, flashing him an awkward smile.

“Hey Big Q…” Tubbo said, sitting down next to him. The boy was trying to be his typical happy optimistic self, but Quackity could see through the facade. He could see how his eyes were red and puffy, and his smile faltered.

“Hey Tubbo… what do we do now?” Quackity asked him.

“Well, it’s not too long gone. I talked with Tommy about my plans for new L’manburg. I’m thinking we can-”

“That’s not what I meant Tubbo…” Quackity interrupted the boy, looking at him and watching his face drop. They didn’t have to say anything to know what, or rather who, they were thinking about. Tubbo fell back into silence, a skewed look on his face like he was thinking.

“I never got to say I’m sorry.” Quackity said, keeping his gaze on the shattered landscape. Tubbo looked to him, his head tilted like a puppy.

“At the festival… Tubbo I swear, I had no idea he was going to do that, I thought he was just gonna imprison you, I couldn’t have known-” He didn’t realize he was beginning to shake until Tubbo put a hand on his shoulder, quickly bringing it back into his lap when the older boy finally looked him in the eyes. He twiddled his thumbs anxiously.

“It’s ok Big Q, I know…” Tubbo’s eyes were getting red again and he could tell, quickly turning his face away so as to not let Quackity see him cry. 

“Tubbo! There you are! I’ve been looking for…” Fundy hopped up the side of the podium but stopped when he saw the two boys sitting there. 

“I’m sorry… Did I interrupt? I can come back later?” Fundy hesitated, seeing Tubbo cry wasn’t something he was used to. Quackity looked to Tubbo for an answer and watched as the boy shook his head, looking back up with an obviously forced smile.

“It’s alright Fundy, would you like to join us?” Tubbos voice cracked, and the fox sat on the other side of him. They sat in silence again, listening to the quiet ambiance of the citizens of L’manburg exploring the rubble of their shattered country, searching for anything that remained of what once was. 

“I’m sorry about what Schlatt said to you…” Tubbo started, wiping at his eye. “...about not being a real man. He went too far.”

“Don’t apologize Tubbo. It’s not your fault.” Fundy sighed. “Besides, I’m used to people acting like that. I still can’t believe I trusted him. I thought he would do good for this country, but look at this! Look at us…” he motioned across the remains of L’manburg. 

“Schlatt really fucked us up, didn’t he?” Quackity finally worked up the nerve to say something.

“Yeah… It wasn’t all bad though, I mean, he did some good things for the country?” Tubbo said, tiptoeing over his words.

“I remember back at the beginning, when we’d just go on stupid dates together. We were so happy then…” Quackity trailed off, the memory hurt his head.

“You remember boxing before the festival, Tubbo?” Fundy asked the boy.

“I try not to remember that day… sorry Fundy.” Tubbo’s voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. 

“Hey, you alright Tubbo? It’s been a long day, you should get some sleep.” Quackity said. He could see the bags under the boy's cold eyes as he looked over at him.

“Y-yeah, sorry… you’re probably right Quaaaackity.” His name was stretched out with a yawn from Tubbo. Quackity frowned, bringing the boy into a hug.

“Stop apologizing so much, you’re doing great.” Quackity said to the boy and felt him shudder in the embrace, letting himself actually cry in the older boy's arms. Quackity looked up to Fundy, and somber eyes met somber eyes. Schlatt really reduced them to nothing, constantly breaking their psyche. Fundy rubbed circled into Tubbos' back, just sitting with the boy to keep him company. Quackity brought his hand up and patted Tubbo’s head, humming to him and feeling as his cries turned to ragged breaths and ragged breaths slowed to a gentle rhythm. He was asleep. He needed it, Quackity thought. 

“Help me get the young president to a bed, will you Fundy?” He looked up to the fox, who’s own eyelids were starting to fall. Fundy looked up at him and nodded, helping him shift to hold Tubbo by the knees and back. He felt small in Quackity’s arms, and he felt a pang in his heart. This kid had been through so much, and was now haphazardly being thrown into the role of leading a country. This world had been so cruel to the small boy. Up close, he could now really see the damage from the festival. The scar took up over half of his face, a splattered mess of skin. It pained him to look at it. He took a few steps but stopped, realizing he had absolutely no clue where Tubbo lived, or if it was even still there. He looked back at Fundy and the fox gave him a knowing nod before leading the way to a small building that Quackity hadn’t even noticed before. Fundy opened the door for him and led him upstairs to a small room with a bed. He placed the boy down gently in bed, watching as he shifted around before getting comfortable again. 

“Schlatt shouldn’t have said that shit about you, yaknow.” Quackity started, leaning against the warm wooden walls of the room.

“It’s really fine, I already said I’m used to it.” Fundy responded, sounding a little uncomfortable.

“That doesn’t make it right! It’s bullshit, how he treated us…” Quackity sighed, pushing off against the wall and starting out of the room before putting a hand on Fundy’s shoulder.

“Just so you know, you’re one of the strongest men I know. I wouldn’t have been able to put up with Schlatt for as long as you did. You really impress me, yaknow?” and with that, Quackity left. 

He went back to the camarvan. He needed to make sure the fucker was actually dead. 

It was quiet, painfully quiet. The midnight ambience reverberated over the fractured land. Quackity slipped into the camarvan, sitting on the floor across from his ex-lover.

There he was, in all his bloody glory. His pack of cigarettes was on a table nearby. Quackity had never smoked, but for some reason, in this moment, the urge arose. He took one from the box and lit it, breathing in the familiar scent of tobacco that would cling to Schlatt’s coat constantly. It clung to the bed, to the whitehouse, and now to him. It filled his lungs with a comforting warmth that burned him at the same time. 

“You really were a bastard.” Quackity said, leaning his head against the dirt walls, taking another drag from the cigarette. 

“I still can’t believe I actually loved you at some point.” he lied through his teeth. He knew why he loved Schlatt, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself. Didn’t want to admit that maybe things were ok at one point, that their love wasn’t always so corrupted and painful. He held his knees to his chest.

“I hate that part of me still cares… well… cared about you. Why the fuck did you have to go and make me care for you… motherfucker.” His voice caught in his throat, he wanted to scream. There was no one there to hear him. No one but the limp body of his ex-lover. And so he did. He slammed his fist on the ground, letting his unresolved anger from the months of abuse boil over. He wanted to know why. Why Schlatt acted the way he did, why he acted like he cared one minute and then didn’t the next. Why he had to choose Quackity of all people to mentally fuck up like this. 

“And apparently fucking me up wasn’t enough for you!” He shouted between gasps. “You had to go fuck up Fundy and Tubbo too! Like I wasn’t fucking enough for you! I was never enough for you!” He hated himself.

“I can’t even say I’m glad you're dead because there’s a part of me that will always miss you. Even in death you wont fucking let go of me… please… I’m so tired...” He felt the tears starting to well in his eyes and stood up, turning around to leave. As much as he wanted to curl into a ball and just cry, he wouldn’t. Not here, and not over Schlatt. 

Even in death, he didn’t want to give that asshole the satisfaction.


	9. epilogue :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im done. tosses this at you. eat it up you karlnapity loving fiends.

Quackity looked at himself in the mirror, trailing his hand across his face and wincing at the sensation. A white scar spread across his face, reaching from above his eyebrow to below his lip, pulling it up halfway into an ugly sneer that revealed his missing tooth. Maybe he should have listened to Technoblade when he said he’d put that pickaxe through his teeth. 

Lots of things had changed since the war. Tubbo rebuilt L’manburg, quite successfully, Quackity might add. The kid really tried his best as the president and he did a good job, he was proud of him. Quackity founded the country of El Rapids along with George and Sapnap, one of his boyfriends; the other being Karl. It was the happiest Quackity had felt in a while, they really made him feel loved. And then there was the butcher army situation with Technoblade. Everything was supposed to go perfectly, they’d been planning the execution for weeks. How were they supposed to know Techno had a totem of undying? 

He brought his fingers up to his eye, pulling at his eyelids. The scar went through it, leaving marks on the white of his eye and scratching out his pupil, only a white mark remained. He had chased down Techno after he escaped, following him to the final control room for a final duel, and ultimately losing his second life. He shuddered at the memory of the pickaxe hacking through his face and teeth. He let his head fall into his hands, he felt ugly.

“Hey Quackity, are you doing alright in there?” There was a knocking on the bathroom door. It was Karl, he worried too much.

“Yeah yeah, I’m alright, be out in just a sec.” he took a deep breath, forced a smile onto his face, and left the cold bathroom. 

“There’s my handsome hunk! How are you doing babe?” Karl asked with a huge grin on his face. As always, his cheery disposition put Quackity in a slightly better mood. He chuckled a bit at what Karl called him.

“Well, not great… not a huge fan of this scar, and you’re gonna have to get used to it, huh?” He smiled weakly at the ground, feeling bad that Karl had to see him like this.

“What do you mean get used to it? It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Karl hummed and went to pick up Quackity’s face, but he didn’t let him. He tensed up, taking a step back and raising his fists close to his face as if on instinct. Karl’s smile fell, his hand hovering in place for a few seconds before it promptly fell to his side.

“Oh hun… I’m sorry..” Karl started but was interrupted.

“Shit, fuck, no no no I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking, it’s just kinda an instinct I-” Quackity was rushing his words, panicking slightly after he saw Karl’s grin drop from his face. Karl shushed him and put a hand on his shoulder, hesitating slightly before Quackity gave him a small nod, giving Karl the permission he needed to touch him. 

“Hey, it’s ok. Look, I don’t know everything Schlatt did to you, and I don't need you to go through that pain again by recounting everything that happened to me. I want you to know I’m here for you though, I’m not gonna hurt you like he did.” His tone was soft as always, and Quackity was starting to berate himself. He didn’t deserve this kindness. He didn’t need to unload his trauma on Karl. 

“I… Karl it’s fine, trust me. I just still have some things I need to figure out for myself, but I don’t need you to help. I don’t want you to get hurt.” The last sentence was more hushed, as if he didn’t want Karl to hear. It was obvious he heard though, because he pulled Quackity into a hug and started rubbing his back. He tensed up at first but tried to relax into it, letting Karl do whatever he was doing. His voice was a gentle whisper in Quackity’s ear.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, silly. I want to help you, that’s kinda what boyfriends do. Besides, I love you too much to let you go through this alone.” He pressed a kiss to Quackity’s forehead. It was gentle, loving. Quackity felt like putty in the boy's arms, like he could melt at any moment and be molded into something completely new. He didn’t realize he was crying until Karl wiped a tear from below his eye.

“Fuck Karl, I’m sorry.” he brought the bottoms of his palms up to his eyes and rubbed at them, trying to get the tears to stop, but he couldnt. Karl gently grabbed his hands and moved them, leaning down a bit to be at eye level with the other man. 

“Stop apologizing so much. You know you’re allowed to cry right? I cry all the time.” Karl laughed a bit at his own words. “I don’t want you to feel ashamed of it. I know you’ve been through a lot, I’m surprised I haven’t seen you cry sooner…” He trailed off, still rubbing Quackity’s back rhythmically.

“It just makes me feel pathetic… Schlatt used to-'' he started but froze. He didn’t want to remember Schlatt, and apparently Karl didn’t want him to either.

“Schlatt’s not here anymore, are you gonna let him control your thoughts like that forever?” 

“Listen, it’s hard to get over everything. I can’t just let it go all at once… he really fucked me up” Quackity shuddered remembering everything. The broken bottles, slurred hateful words, violent hands, the way he looked at the boy with such disgust, his head was spinning again. He remembered the image of the ram’s contorted dead body, it was seared into his mind, haunting his dreams. He started shaking and Karl pulled him closer.

“It’s ok love, I’m here.” and for once, Quackity let himself cry. He sobbed into Karl’s sweatshirt, grabbing at the purple fabric with shaky hands. The whole time Karl let him, still rubbing his back and humming in his ear. He pulled off the boy’s beanie and started running his hands through his dark hair, simple soothing movements. He twirled the ebony locks in his fingers, leaning down a bit to kiss Quackity on the head again.

“It’s alright, you’re safe here.” Karl hummed quietly as Quackity’s gasps slowed and his breathing steadied. He took a step back out of the embrace and sniffed a bit, wiping at his eyes and nose and wincing again when his fingers found his scar. 

“How about we go find Sapnap?” Karl chimed, holding a hand out for Quackity to take. Karl practically dragged Quackity by the wrist to where Sapnap was working outside in El Rapids. He trailed behind absent-mindedly, his thoughts were scattered. He wanted to cry again, did he even deserve this? This tender, domestic life wasn’t something that felt right to him. It wasn’t what he had known. 

Sapnap’s eyes lit up when he saw them, running over and pulling Quackity into a hug that swept him off the ground and out of his thoughts. The bigger man peppered kisses across his face, smothering Quackity in his arms.

“Hey! Cut it out!” Quackity laughed, pulling his face away from Sapnap who only held on tighter.

“Aw, but you had me so worried! I didn’t know if I’d see you again!” Sapnap joked, obviously his concerns were about the Technoblade incident. Quackity sighed.

“Of course I’m fine, I mean, I lost a life and now I got this nasty scar, but I’m still here in one piece.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“Nasty? It’s not nasty, it’s badass! You’ve got battle scars now! And look, we’re matching!” Sapnap gave a big toothy grin as he pointed to his own scar that spread across his nose. He had a lot of scars from battle, Quackity noticed. They trailed down his neck, across his chest, and over his fingers. From battle training with Dream, the manhunts, fighting against and then with L’manberg, the pet wars... Quackity realized how much Sapnap had been through, he’d been at the forefront of so many wars and for what? For Dream? Sapnap didn’t like to talk about the man who was once his closest friend much anymore, he could sense him drifting. All the times Dream would ignore him, or use him just for his fighting abilities had really taken a toll on the man. In a way, Sapnap loved Dream in the same way Quackity had loved Schlatt. Maybe they could both help each other heal, Quackity thought. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the scar across Sapnap’s nose, holding his face in his hands. 

“Yeah, we are matching.”

“Hey are you guys really leaving me out of this?” Karl whined jokingly from where he stood before Sapnap rushed over and pulled him into a playful headlock, ruffling his brown hair until it was a messy poof on his head. Quackity couldn’t help but laugh, walking over to the other two men and leaning his forehead on Sapnap’s shoulder

“Thank you guys, really…” Quackity said quietly.

“You really think we’d let you go through this alone?” Sapnap chirped, putting an arm around Quackity and holding him close, doing the same with Karl. 

“We’re here for you, always.” Karl said before giving him a quick kiss. Quackity looked down at their hands. 3 silver rings adorned them, all matching. He pulled his hand up a bit to twist the ring with his other hand, the motion was muscle memory. The cold metal tickled the tips of his fingers, letting him know that this was real. He wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t going to wake up and be stuck with Schlatt again. A smile made its way onto his face as he nestled closer to the other two men.

He was finally truly safe and loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its finished. i did it. I WON PHIL


End file.
